When had he an opportunity of doing so? Unless we are to assume the complicity of the real conductor, there was only one time when he could have done so—during the time the train stopped at Vincovci. After the train left Vincovci the conductor was sitting facing the corridor and whereas any one of the passengers would pay little attention to a Wagon Lit attendant, the one person who would notice an imposter would be the real conductor. But during the halt at Vincovci the conductor is out on the platform. The coast is clear.”
“And, by our former reasoning, it must be one of the passengers,” said M. Bouc. “We come back to where we were. Which of them?”
Poirot smiled.
“I have made a list,” he said, “If you like to see it, it will, perhaps, refresh your memory.”
The doctor and M. Bouc pored over the list together. It was written out neatly in a methodical manner in the order in which the passengers had been interviewed.
Hector MacQueen—American subject. Berth No. 6. Second Class.
Motive: Possibly arising out of association with dead man?
Alibi: From midnight to 2 a.m. (Midnight to 1:30 vouched for by Col. Arbuthnot and 1:15 to 2 vouched for by conductor.)
Evidence Against Him: None.
Suspicious Circumstances: None.
Conductor—Pierre Michel—French subject.
Motive: None.
Alibi: From midnight to 2 a.m. (Seen by H.P. in corridor at same time as voice spoke from Ratchett’s compartment at
12:37. From 1 a.m. to 1:16 vouched for by other two conductors.)
Evidence Against Him: None.
Suspicious Circumstances: The Wagon Lit uniform found is a point in his favour since it seems to have been intended to throw suspicion on him.
Edward Masterman—English subject. Berth No. 4. Second Class
Motive: Possibly arising out of connection with deceased, whose valet he was.
Alibi: From midnight to 2 a.m. (Vouched for by Antonio Foscarelli.)
Evidence Against Him or Suspicious Circumstances: None, except that he is the only man the right height or size to have worn the Wagon Lit uniform. On the other hand, it is unlikely that he speaks French well.
Mrs. Hubbard—American subject. Berth No. 3. First Class.
Motive: None.
Alibi: From midnight to 2 a.m.—None.
Evidence Against Her or Suspicious Circumstances: Story of man in her compartment is substantiated by the evidence of Hardman and that of the woman Schmidt.
Greta Ohlsson—Swedish subject. Berth No. 10. Second Class.
Motive: None.
Alibi: From midnight to 2 a.m. (Vouched for by Mary Debenham.) Note.—Was last to see Ratchett alive.
Princess Dragomiroff—Naturalized French subject. Berth No. 14. First Class.
Motive: Was intimately acquainted with Armstrong family, and godmother to Sonia Armstrong.
Alibi: From midnight to 2 a.m. (Vouched for by conductor and maid.)
Evidence Against Her or Suspicious Circumstances: None.
Count Andrenyi—Hungarian subject. Diplomatic passport. Berth No. 13. First Class.
Motive: None.
Alibi: Midnight to 2 a.m. (Vouched for by conductor—this does not cover period from 1 to 1:15.)
Countess Andrenyi—As above. Berth No. 12.
Motive: None.
Alibi: Midnight to 2 a.m. Took trional and slept. (Vouched for by husband. Trional bottle in her cupboard.)
Colonel Arbuthnot—British subject. Berth No. 15. First Class
Motive: None.
Alibi: Midnight to 2 a.m. Talked with MacQueen till 1:30. Went to own compartment and did not leave it. (Substantiated by MacQueen and conductor.)
Evidence Against Him or Suspicious Circumstances: Pipe cleaner.
Cyrus Hardman—American subject. Berth No. 16. Second Class
Motive: None known.
Alibi: Midnight to 2 a.m. Did not leave compartment. (Substantiated by MacQueen and conductor.)
Evidence Against Him or Suspicious Circumstances: None.
Antonio Foscarelli—American subject. (Italian birth.) Berth No. 5. Second Class
Motive: None known.
Alibi: Midnight to 2 a.m. (Vouched for by Edward Masterman.)
Evidence Against Him or Suspicious Circumstances: None, except that weapon used might be said to suit his temperament. (Vide M. Bouc.)
Mary Debenham—British subject. Berth No. 11. Second Class
Motive: None.
Alibi: Midnight to 2 a.m. (Vouched for by Greta Ohlsson.)
Evidence Against Her or Suspicious Circumstances: and her refusal to explain same.
Hildegarde Schmidt—German subject. Berth No. 8. Second Class.
Motive: None.
Alibi: Midnight to 2 a.m. (Vouched for by conductor and her mistress.) Went to bed. Was aroused by conductor at 12:38 approx. and went to mistress.
Note: The evidence of the passengers is supported by the statement of the conductor that no one entered or left Mr. Ratchett’s compartment between the hours of midnight to 1 o’clock (when he himself went into the next coach) and from 1:15 to 2 o’clock.
“That document, you understand,” said Poirot, “is a mere précis of the evidence we heard, arranged that way for convenience.”
With a grimace M. Bouc handed it back.
“It is not illuminating,” he said.
“Perhaps you may find this more to your taste,” said Poirot with a slight smile as he handed him a second sheet of paper.
Two
TEN QUESTIONS
On the paper was written:
Things needing explanation.
The handkerchief marked with the initial H. Whose is it?
The pipe cleaner. Was it dropped by Colonel Arbuthnot? Or by someone else?
Who wore the scarlet kimono?
Who was the man or woman masquerading in Wagon Lit uniform?
Why do the hands of the watch point to 1:15?
Was the murder committed at that time?
Was it earlier?
Was it later?
Can we be sure that Ratchett was stabbed by more than one person?
What other explanation of his wounds can there be?
“Well, let us see what we can do,” said M. Bouc, brightening a little at this challenge to his wits. “The handkerchief to begin with. Let us by all means be orderly and methodical.”
“Assuredly,” said Poirot, nodding his head in a satisfied fashion.
M. Bouc continued somewhat didactically.
“The initial H is connected with three people—Mrs. Hubbard, Miss Debenham, whose second name is Hermione, and the maid Hildegarde Schmidt.”
“Ah! And of those three?”
“It is difficult to say. But I think I should vote for Miss Debenham. For all one knows, she may be called by her second name and not her first. Also there is already some suspicion attaching to her. That conversation you overheard, mon cher, was certainly a little curious, and so is her refusal to explain it.”
“As for me, I plump for the American,” said Dr. Constantine. “It is a very expensive handkerchief that, and Americans, as all the world knows, do not care what they pay.”
“So you both eliminate the maid?” asked Poirot.
“Yes. As she herself said, it is the handkerchief of a member of the upper classes.”
“And the second question—the pipe cleaner. Did Colonel Arbuthnot drop it, or somebody else?”
“That is more difficult. The English, they do not stab. You are right there. I incline to the view that someone else dropped the pipe cleaner—and did so to incriminate the long-legged Englishman.”
“As you said, M. Poirot,” put in the doctor, “two clues is too much carelessness. I agree with M. Bouc. The handkerchief was a genuine oversight—hence no one will admit that it is theirs. The pipe cleaner is a faked clue. In support of that theory, you notice that Colonel Arbuthnot shows no embarrassment and admits freely to smoking a pipe and using that type of cleaner.”
“You reason well,” said Poirot.
“Question No. 3—who wore the scarlet kimono?” went on M. Bouc. “As to that I will confess I have not the slightest idea. Have you any views on the subject, Dr. Constantine?”
“None.”
“Then we confess ourselves beaten there. The next question has, at any rate, possibilities. Who was the man or woman masquerading in Wagon Lit uniform? Well, one can say with certainty a number of people whom it could not be. Hardman, Colonel Arbuthnot, Foscarelli, Count Andrenyi and Hector MacQueen are all too tall. Mrs. Hubbard, Hildegarde Schmidt and Greta Ohlsson are too broad. That leaves the valet, Miss Debenham, Princess Dragomiroff and Countess Andrenyi—and none of them sounds likely! Greta Ohlsson in one case and Antonio Foscarelli in the other both swear that Miss Debenham and the valet never left their compartments, Hildegarde Schmidt swears to the Princess being in hers, and Count Andrenyi has told us that his wife took a sleeping draught. Therefore it seems impossible that it can be anybody—which is absurd!”
“As our old friend Euclid says,” murmured Poirot.
“It must be one of those four,” said Dr. Constantine. “Unless it is someone from outside who has found a hiding place—and that, we agreed, was impossible.”
M. Bouc had passed on to the next question on the list.
“No. 5—why do the hands of the broken watch point to 1:15? I can see two explanations of that. Either it was done by the murderer to establish an alibi and afterwards he was prevented from leaving the compartment when he meant to do so by hearing people moving about, or else—wait—I have an idea coming—”
The other two waited respectfully while M. Bouc struggled in mental agony.
“I have it,” he said at last. “It was not the Wagon Lit murderer who tampered with the watch! It was the person we have called the Second Murderer—the left-handed person—in other words the woman in the scarlet kimono. She arrives later and moves back the hands of the watch in order to make an alibi for herself.”
“Bravo,” said Dr. Constantine. “It is well imagined, that.”
“In fact,” said Poirot, “she stabbed him in the dark, not realizing that he was dead already, but somehow deduced that he had a watch in his pyjama pocket, took it out, put back the hands blindly and gave it the requisite dent.”
M. Bouc looked at him coldly.
“Have you anything better to suggest yourself?” he asked.
“At the moment—no,” admitted Poirot.
“All the same,” he went on, “I do not think you have either of you appreciated the most interesting point about that watch.”
“Does question No. 6 deal with it?” asked the doctor. “To that question—was the murder committed at that time—1:15—I answer, ‘No.’”
“I agree,” said M. Bouc. “‘Was it earlier?’ is the next question. I say yes. You, too, doctor?”
The doctor nodded.
“Yes, but the question ‘Was it later?’ can also be answered in the affirmative. I agree with your theory, M. Bouc, and so, I think, does M. Poirot, although he does not wish to commit himself. The First Murderer came earlier than 1:15, the Second Murderer came after 1:15. And as regards the question of left-handedness, ought we not to take steps to ascertain which of the passengers is left-handed?”
“I have not completely neglected that point,” said Poirot. “You may have noticed that I made each passenger write either a signature or an address. That is not conclusive, because some people do certain actions with the right hand and others with the left. Some write right-handed, but play golf left-handed. Still it is something. Every person questioned took the pen in their right hand—with the exception of Princess Dragomiroff, who refused to write.”
“Princess Dragomiroff, impossible,” said M. Bouc.
“I doubt if she would have had the strength to inflict that particular left-handed blow,” said Dr. Constantine dubiously. “That particular wound had been inflicted with considerable force.”
“More force than a woman could use?”
“No, I would not say that. But I think more force than an elderly woman could display, and Princess Dragomiroff’s physique is particularly frail.”
“It might be a question of the influence of mind over body,” said Poirot. “Princess Dragomiroff has great personality and immense will power. But let us pass from that for the moment.”
“To questions Nos. 9 and 10. Can we be sure that Ratchett was stabbed by more than one person, and what other explanation of the wounds can there be? In my opinion, medically speaking, there can be no other explanation of those wounds. To suggest that one man struck first feebly and then with violence, first with the right hand and then with the left, and after an interval of perhaps half an hour inflicted fresh wounds on a dead body—well, it does not make sense.”
“No,” said Poirot. “It does not make sense. And you think that two murderers do make sense?”
“As you yourself have said, what other explanation can there be?”
Poirot stared straight ahead of him.
“That is what I ask myself,” he said. “That is what I never cease to ask myself.”
He leaned back in his seat.
“From now on, it is all here,” he tapped himself on the forehead. “We have thrashed it all out. The facts are all in front of us—neatly arranged with order and method. The passengers have sat here, one by one, giving their evidence. We know all that can be known—from outside.…”
He gave an affectionate smile at M. Bouc.
“It has been a little joke between us, has it not—this business of sitting back and thinking out the truth? Well, I am about to put my theory into practice—here before your eyes. You two must do the same. Let us all three close our eyes and think.…”
“One or more of those passengers killed Ratchett. Which of them?”
Three
CERTAIN SUGGESTIVE POINTS
It was quite a quarter of an hour before anyone spoke.
M. Bouc and Dr. Constantine had started by trying to obey Poirot’s instructions. They had endeavoured to see through the maze of conflicting particulars to a clear and outstanding solution.
M. Bouc’s thoughts had run something as follows:
“Assuredly I must think. But as far as that goes I have already thought…Poirot obviously thinks this English girl is mixed up in the matter. I cannot help feeling that that is most unlikely…The English are extremely cold. Probably it is because they have no figures…But that is not the point. It seems that the Italian could not have done it—a pity. I suppose the English valet is not lying when he said the other never left the compartment? But why should he? It is not easy to bribe the English, they are so unapproachable. The whole thing is most unfortunate. I wonder when we shall get out of this. There must be some rescue work in progress. They are so slow in these countries…it is hours before anyone thinks of doing anything. And the police of these countries, they will be most trying to deal with—puffed up with importance, touchy, on their dignity. They will make a grand affair of all this. It is not often that such a chance comes their way. It will be in all the newspapers….”
And from there on M. Bouc’s thoughts went along a well-worn course which they had already traversed some hundred times.
Dr. Constantine’s thoughts ran thus:
“He is queer, this little man. A genius? Or a crank? Will he solve this mystery? Impossible. I can see no way out of it. It is all too confusing…Everyone is lying, perhaps…But even then that does not help one. If they are all lying it is just as confusing as if they were speaking the truth. Odd about those wounds. I cannot understand it…It would be easier to understand if he had been shot—after all, the term gunman must mean that they shoot with a gun. A curious country, America. I should like to go there. It is so progressive. When I get home I must get hold of Demetrius Zagone—he has been to America, he has all the modern ideas…I wonder what Zia is doing at this moment. If my wife ever finds out—”
His thoughts went on to entirely private matters.
Hercule Poirot sat very still.
One might have thought he was asleep.
And then, suddenly, after a quarter of an hour’s complete immobility, his eyebrows began to move slowly up his forehead. A little sigh escaped him. He murmured beneath his breath:
“But, after all, why not? And if so—why, if so, that would explain everything.”
His eyes opened. They were green like a cat’s. He said softly:
“Eh bien. I have thought. And you?”
Lost in their reflections, both men started violently.
“I have thought also,” said M. Bouc just a shade guilty. “But I have arrived at no conclusion. The elucidation of crime is your métier, not mine, my friend.”
“I, too, have reflected with great earnestness,” said the doctor unblushingly, recalling his thoughts from certain pornographic details. “I have thought of many possible theories, but not one that really satisfies me.”
Poirot nodded amiably. His nod seemed to say:
“Quite right. That is the proper thing to say. You have given me the cue I expected.”
He sat very upright, threw out his chest, caressed his moustache and spoke in the manner of a practised speaker addressing a public meeting.
“My friends, I have reviewed the facts in my mind..."